Mourning After
by LanieSullivan
Summary: What happens when a woman has to go too far to save someone's life? Can she live with the consequences?


Disclaimer: "Scarecrow and Mrs. King" is copyrighted to Warner Brothers and Shoot the Moon Productions. The plot is mine, but not the characters. This story is meant for enjoyment purposes only. No infringement is intended.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

She shivered and climbed out of bed after her unwelcome lover had left the room and wrapped the scratchy wool blanket around her bare body, but it did nothing to warm the chill in her heart at what she'd done. She padded barefoot into the bathroom and when the revulsion of her actions of the night before fully hit her, she violently retched into the toilet, tears of shame running down her face. Then just when she thought she was done and tried to stand, her stomach roiled and she let loose again. She sank wearily against the wall behind her, using it for support until she was sure that her legs would hold her again.

Lee's last words to her kept ringing in her ears as she finally stood and made her way to the sink, taking care to make sure that the blanket was still firmly tucked around her. The last thing she needed was for someone to walk in and find her like this and it was entirely possible that it could happen since she now found herself trapped in a nest of terrorists, any one of them who would be only too happy to use her body for their own enjoyment as her most recent lover had done. They wouldn't care that she was now considered to be HIS. After all, she wasn't the only one he'd bedded recently. She shuddered at the memory of his touch and more than that; how she'd reacted to it. How, to protect herself and those she cared about, she'd had to pretend to enjoy every minute of it.

She placed a hand to her still slightly-queasy stomach, trying to will it to calm down and not to make her vomit again. Taking a deep breath, she relaxed a bit when she realized that it was not going to happen. She turned on the tap and began to splash cold water on her face in an attempt to calm herself. Her thoughts turned back to Lee as she did so. He'd asked her for her involvement in this case of his. He'd said it was a matter of life and death, but she wondered how he would feel if he knew precisely the lengths she'd had to go to. Would he look at her the same way? She owed him a lot, her life, if the truth were told. He'd changed her life in more ways than she could count, all for the better, but now she'd just thrown that all away. Upon becoming single again, she'd worked so hard for the life she had now. She was a vastly different person than she had been before. Now, it was likely that everything she'd fought for would be lost.

She'd had no choice, of course, not if she wanted to save the life she'd come to save. There was an innocent person's life at stake, after all, a life she was responsible for saving, but at what cost? How would her family look at her if they knew what'd she'd done? Would they be able to see the shame etched on her face when she went home? IF she was able to go home, that is. Right now, that chance was looking pretty grim. She'd sunk as low as she could sink and still hadn't managed to get the man in question to give up his secret location. That meant she had to try again. The thought of it filled her with disgust. Could she really spend another night with a man whose mere presence made her skin crawl? She could easily walk away. The only thing keeping her here was her own conscience. She wasn't really a prisoner, after all.

 _But someone else is_ , a niggling voice in the back of her mind reminded her. _Probably being tortured, starved, maybe even beaten to near-death._ Was her quarry even still alive? she wondered. No, there'd be no escape for her. What other option did she have? This wasn't about her. There were other people's lives at stake and she owed it to them to carry on, no matter what others might think of her or what she might think of herself. Her conscience wouldn't let her quit. She'd just have to deal with the consequences later.

She reached for a towel to dry her face with, then turned and caught sight of herself in the mirror. To her surprise, she didn't look any different other than the forlorn look on her face. The water she'd splashed on her face had washed away the tear tracks, but the melancholy still showed. Same dark hair, same dark eyes, but even though the tears were gone, hers eyes now looked a bit haunted. Would other people be able to see in her eyes what she'd done? She knew she could, but would they? She'd heard it said that the eyes were the windows to the soul. She wondered if that were true. Could someone look into her dark, normally expressive eyes and see her personal shame?

The thought of eyes brought to the front of her mind that long ago conversation about Lee's eyes over cup after cup of coffee. The admiring, almost elated, comment of, "beautiful, beautiful, beautiful eyes." How would those beautiful eyes look at her after this? Would they be horrified at what she'd done only to achieve zero results? Or would they appear apologetic and guilt-ridden because she'd had to sink so low for nothing, blaming himself because he'd sent her there? Or would there be anger in those eyes that she hadn't accomplished the mission she'd set out to accomplish? She knew that with a man like him, there was no way that he'd be the kind to just be grateful to her for trying, even though she was putting her life on the line in doing so. He was much too complicated for that. No, complicated was the wrong word, downright bullheaded was the more accurate word. He wanted results and come hell or high water, she'd make sure that he got them. If she didn't, she could almost hear his reaction, his voice saying, " _Why the hell did you do it, if you didn't think you'd succeed?"_

She shook off these nagging thoughts. What was the point of dwelling on it any longer? She'd known going into this that this had been a possibility and she might have to take it that far, sleeping with a man she reviled, letting him use her for his own gratification. She wandered back into the other room and began rooting around for her clothing when she was startled by hearing the creak of the door opening. She stood stock-still as she self-consciously made sure the blanket was still wrapped tightly around her.

The new occupant of the room looked at her in contempt with arms tightly folded at the state of her appearance. "So, it's true."

Inwardly, she cringed that he'd already been talking about their night together, perhaps even bragging about it. That would definitely be his style with as depraved as she knew him to be. She didn't allow it to show on her face though. Instead, she smiled and tried to pretend she was ecstatic over this turn of events, knowing what would happen if she didn't. "Yes," she responded in what she hoped was a happy tone.

"Why? How could you?" Was there a hint of jealousy in that irate tone?

 _Well, that answers the question of how at least one member of my family feels,_ she thought glumly. She hurried to close the door and in a hushed tone, explained, "You don't understand."

"I understand perfectly well, but Magda, how could you?" Mara Petrak scolded her sister. "If you get caught, Addi will kill you."

"Better he kill me than Amanda King. I owe her my life," she replied simply. And she did. She knew it just as Lee had known it when he'd recruited her for this job. "I'll do what I have to do to save her, even if it means my own life."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

AN: Please do not disclose the identity of the main character in this fic in public reviews or comments. Thank you.


End file.
